


trouvaille.

by midnightmew



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Magic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Witches, Wizards, but its not really enemies, more just like slightly irritated with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightmew/pseuds/midnightmew
Summary: One rainy day, the wizard Kawanishi Taichi stumbles across the magical little café of Shirabu Kenjirou. Over the months, the pair slowly settle into each other's lives in a way neither would have ever expected.-'There is evidence of magic everywhere here, crystals on side tables and inscriptions around the edge of the ceiling. This isn’t the kind of magic that Taichi is used to, but being surrounded by it all feels comforting nonetheless. He’s used to having the feeling of magic as one that resides solely within his own chest, and this feels like he’s somehow managed to walk into that. It’s strangely familiar in a way he wouldn’t have expected. Warm around him like the hot water of a bath. It feels almost like home.’
Relationships: Kawanishi Taichi/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Haikyuu Rarepair Exchange 2020





	trouvaille.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kunimiakiras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimiakiras/gifts).



> Paige, I really hope you enjoy this fic! There were so many ideas that I loved in your dear creator letter that I ended up combining a magic au with a bakery au (well, more of a magical café but it does sell bread!) I’m not quite sure if it fits under enemies to lovers or slow burn perfectly, but I would like to think there are elements of that in here too. Anyway, here’s hoping it's to your tastes,  
> Lily <3
> 
> If anyone's the type to listen to music while they read fic, I would definitely recommend leaning into the ghibli vibes that I hope come through in this. Here’s a mix that I listened to while editing <https://youtu.be/zcaskjhhXWQ>

****

**(** **n.) trouvaille**

_trou.vaille | trü’vī_

something lovely discovered by chance; a windfall

 _from the French_ **_trouver_ ** _, to find_

It has been raining continuously for three weeks on the day that Kawanishi Taichi arrives in town. The rain doesn’t bother him. It would be easy enough for him to cast a spell to protect himself from it if he cared that much, but he’s tired from his travels, and besides, he finds the sound of the steady drip of it from the brim of his hat rather relaxing. 

Still, he reckons it might be a good idea to find somewhere to wait out the storm. Taichi isn’t to know that it’s not stopped for more than a few moments reprieve in quite some time now, he is new here. Making his way up the main street- the wet cobbles slightly slippery under his boots and the clicking of his heels drowned out by the sound of the storm around him- he spots what appears to be a small café and slips inside. 

There is a bell above the door that chimes lightly as he pushes it open and a man stands behind the counter. The moment he hears the bell, his head whips up and he jumps a little, seeming surprised at the sound, as if he hadn’t expected to hear anyone coming in the door. His brow furrows a little as he looks over Taichi, his gaze sweeping from the slightly crooked tip of his hat down to his boots- pretty blue things that glimmer like the night sky, perhaps not the most appropriate for travelling, but he likes them. 

‘You’re dripping all over the floor.’ The man says with a sigh, reaching a hand up to brush away his blonde fringe from where it has started to fall into his eyes a little. 

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ he looks down at the hardwood floor, where he has indeed created a slight puddle. Taichi hopes he hasn’t caused any lasting damage, that certainly wouldn’t be a great first impression in this town, and the man in front of him already looks grumpy enough without him making the situation worse. 

He waves his hand in a precise motion, drying himself off with a spell and removing all traces of water from the floor beneath him. The man’s eyes go wide, and Taichi thinks that perhaps magic is not such a common occurrence in a small town like this. He moves to go and take a seat at one of the small tables, legs trembling under him slightly, suddenly unsteady on his feet. He had known that he needed to rest before doing more magic, and perhaps he had pushed it a little too far. 

Taichi just about makes it to the chair, before he slumps down, sprawled over the table, the world around him turning dark with exhaustion. 

Shirabu Kenjirou is fed up. His café has been quiet all day, though that's hardly a change from the last few weeks. The bad weather has kept everyone at home, and aside from the regulars who come in to buy their bread each morning come rain or shine, business has not been good for him.

He doesn’t mind the quiet so much, it gives him more time to work on his magic and to play about with enchanting various concoctions of herbs he can add to teas. But as much as he enjoys his solitude, it’s not going to pay the bills if there’s no customers. 

So he’s happy when he hears the bell over the door, even more so when he realises that the man standing before him is unfamiliar. It’s the first stranger they’ve had in town for weeks, perhaps he can take it as a sign that things are starting to return to normal.

The man is very clearly a wizard, Kenjirou can tell that just from the way he carries himself, if his outfit wasn’t already making it painfully obvious. He drips water all over the floor, seemingly thinking too much of himself to even care about where he stands, which pisses Kenjirou off. Sometimes people who come into the shop mistake him for a wizard. They see that he can do magic and know no more about the intricacies of it all. If they ever utter this misconception aloud, he is quick to correct them. Shirabu Kenjirou is a witch, and although to the uninitiated there doesn’t seem to be much difference between the two, there is in fact a distinction, and it’s important to _him._

The wizard sways a little on his feet as the water vanishes from the floorboards, thankfully leaving no trace of a stain. Kenjirou is relieved, that would have been a nightmare for him to try and fix later in the afternoon. The man in front of him seems exhausted. 

Kenjirou doesn’t know too much about what it feels like to cast spells as a wizard, seeing as he has never personally experienced such a thing, but he knows they draw their magic internally, and that seems like it would wear on a person after a while. He stares, unashamedly wide eyed, as the man stumbles over to a table before collapsing across it. Letting out another sigh, he wanders over. Great. Not only is the man a wizard, but clearly he is a wizard who can’t take care of himself. And now Kenjirou has to deal with him.

Taichi jumps a little as he startles awake, feeling the sensation of a firm grip on his arm. Looking up, he sees the man who had been behind the counter, glaring down at him. He withers a little under the harsh stare. Alright, perhaps he hadn’t made the greatest of first impressions, with potentially ruining the floor and then collapsing onto one of the tables without saying a word, but he didn’t think he had done anything to warrant a look _that_ harsh. 

‘Finally.’ The man says, and Taichi gets a good look at his face. His long blonde hair falls into his eyes a little, and his jawline is sharp and angular. Taichi would almost describe him as pretty, if he didn’t think that the man would kill him for saying so. ‘I’ve been shaking you for a good few minutes now.’ 

‘Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,’ Taichi stammers, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He doesn’t need to be able to see himself to know that his face has a flush to it.

‘Maybe next time choose somewhere more suitable to collapse from exhaustion.’ He glares again, but a little softer than the last time. ‘I’m Shirabu Kenjirou. You’re new here.’ 

He doesn’t phrase it like a question, Taichi notices, and he supposes that this must be a small enough town that everyone knows everyone. An outsider like him is instantly noticeable. 

‘Yeah, Kawanishi Taichi, just passing through.’ He says with a small smile, as he rubs at his eyes. His whole body aches with exhaustion now. Taichi really did overestimate the amount that his body could take, and he is paying for it. 

There’s a steaming mug of tea in front of him, and Shirabu nudges it towards him a little. 

‘Drink up. You probably need it, don’t want you becoming someone else’s problem by collapsing again out there in the rain.’ He still sounds annoyed, but a begrudging smile flashes across his face for a fraction of a second, such a quick thing that Taichi could almost swear he’d imagined it.

Taichi cradles the mug in his hands, the liquid inside still a little too hot to drink without burning his tongue. The warmth it sends through his body is nice, and he feels the sensation return to his fingertips a little from where they had been chilled by the rain and wind outside.

‘I’m so sorry about,’ he gestures around, trying to encompass everything that just happened over the last ten minutes of his life. ‘About everything. I do try and make a good first impression when I arrive in new towns, I’m just a little tired today I suppose.’ 

‘I can tell.’ Shirabu says, tone scathing. ‘Now, drink up. It’ll give you energy, I added some ginseng to it and an enchantment or two.’

Taichi sits up a little straighter at that, it's an old witches’ trick, tea to wake one up a little more. That must mean-

He looks around, the first real look he has taken at the café since walking in. It’s instantly obvious that it belongs to a witch, even a cursory glance makes that clear. Behind the counter are shelves upon shelves of glass jars, stuffed full with dried herbs and labelled with tags that are so old the writing has faded from most of them, cramped and neat where it is still visible in a way that resembles the man in front of him so perfectly that Taichi has no doubt this is his doing.

There is evidence of magic everywhere here, crystals on side tables and inscriptions around the edge of the ceiling. This isn’t the kind of magic that Taichi is used to, but being surrounded by it all feels comforting nonetheless. He’s used to having the feeling of magic as one that resides solely within his own chest, and this feels like he’s somehow managed to walk into that. It’s strangely familiar in a way he wouldn’t have expected. Warm around him like the hot water of a bath. It feels almost like home.

‘Are you…’ He trails off, unsure how to phrase the question. He’s known several witches in the past to be deeply private people, and he doesn’t want to offend this man, when he has already made such a dreadful first impression. But, in fairness, all of this is rather out in the open, and unless no-one else in the town has come across a witch before, it doesn’t seem like he’s making any attempt to hide it. 

‘A witch?’ He finishes Taichi’s question for him. ‘Yes. I am. Perhaps not quite as impressive as all your flashy _wizard_ magic,’ his voice carries a level of disdain that makes Taichi want to laugh. He really doesn’t seem very endeared towards wizards- based on some of Taichi’s experiences he doesn’t blame Shirabu in the slightest for that- and he makes no show of hiding it. ‘But I can still be of use in ways regular people can’t be. Now hurry up and drink your tea, or I’ll charge you for it.’

The liquid burns Taichi’s lips slightly as he raises the tea to his mouth, but somehow the warmth that settles inside him is not unpleasant in any way. He feels like he’s just woken up from a deep sleep, still shaking off the drowsiness a little, but with all the energy he needs to do his magic once more. 

The warmth of the tea is comforting in a way he didn’t expect. Still a little too hot for comfort it spreads through his entire body as he stretches his arms a little, a yawn slipping out of his mouth. The witch- Shirabu, he remembers- gives him a strange glance at that. 

The moment the last drop of tea is gone from his mug, it’s snatched away from under him so fast he barely registers the movement. Shirabu has already whisked it away behind the counter, and seems to have started washing it up.

‘Do you know of anywhere I can stay in town?’ He asks. Shirabu doesn’t seem to be the friendliest person he’s ever come across, but Taichi figures he’s as good a person to ask as any. He’s got a few errands to run in the area: spells to cast for people as well as a few favours to run for his family. It seems like a nice place to set up base for a couple of weeks. 

‘There’s an inn down the road, but it’s not somewhere I would send my worst enemy,’ Shirabu says with a grim laugh, and Taichi’s heart sinks a little at that. He runs an appraising eye over Taichi, who feels as though he is being thoroughly scrutinised under the harsh gaze. ‘I have a spare room, I guess. But I’m charging you for it.’ Shirabu says, and Taichi swears that he can see the tips of his ears flush a little. It certainly wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, everything he has seen so far has pointed towards the idea of Shirabu wanting him out of his space as quickly as possible, but he really does need a place to stay, and it's not like he can make his way over to the next town across in this weather, so he finds himself nodding. 

‘Sounds good.’ The wide grin that spreads across his face is not mirrored by the other man, now with his hands in the sink full of soap suds, scrubbing away at a little teapot. He is met only with a slightly less antagonistic glare than before.

When the bell over the shop door sounds again to signal Kawanishi’s leaving, Kenjirou breathes out a sigh of relief and slumps over the counter. He still doesn’t know why he made that offer, and he wants to kick himself for suggesting it. Undeniably, Kawanishi is handsome. He hates himself for getting caught up in that, he is still a wizard. 

Perhaps a younger and more optimistic Shirabu, still unwise to the ways of the world, would have been more insistent not to paint them all with the same brush, but Kenjirou is not a naive child. He has met many wizards in his time, and they have all been the same: charming, but disastrously arrogant. It has never ended well for him.

Sometimes he wonders if it comes with the magic, knowing you can do something that everyone else longs to be able to probably messes with one's ego. It’s not the same for witches, raised to revere the power in things around them, the source of their magic. Wizards, well, their power is from within, so he supposes it makes sense, in a grimly satisfying kind of way, that most of them seem to believe that they should be worshipped. 

Kawanishi doesn’t seem to be like that from what Kenjirou has seen of him, but then again, neither were most of the others at first glance. It always came later; the veneer of charm came off once they had made him feel comfortable. Only after that did all their condescending thoughts about witches come out.

Many of them thought it was immoral to draw magic from anywhere other than yourself, which Kenjirou had obviously always thought to be a ridiculous idea. If it isn’t right, then why is he able to do it? It’s not like there are any real adverse effects, aside from a few outdated ideas about witches that unfortunately seem to have stuck over the years.

After dealing with a customer- one of his regulars, an old man coming in for some bread- he puts the kettle on again for some tea of his own. Nothing magical, but something with lots of caffeine. He reckons he’s going to need it. The rain still comes down thick and fast outside, running through the cobbled streets as if it were a stream, and the rumble of thunder can be heard faintly in the distance. 

Kenjirou likes the rain. Though it keeps people out of his café, which is frustrating, it creates a good atmosphere for his magic. He’s never been able to explain it, but there’s a certain energy to rain. Something he isn’t quite able to put words to, but rather a feeling that imbues everything around him with just a little more magic than usual. 

Sipping at his tea, the mug warm in his hands on such a cold day, he decides to make use of the weather to get some charms made. Weaving together dried stems with threads and stones, murmuring words over it all: it's a relaxing process, for someone normally so tightly wound. It gives him something to focus all his energy into, a nice distraction from all the things in the world that get on his nerves. He finds as he works that he is easily able to forget that wizard from earlier, bound to cause problems for him. 

He loses himself in the process and by the time the bell over the door chimes once more, it is dark outside and his fingers ache a little. The storm still shows no sign of stopping, though it seems to be more wind than rain now. Perhaps Kenjirou will have the rest of his customers back again soon. 

‘This town, it’s so pretty!’ Kawanishi exclaims as he bustles into the shop once more, the small heels on his boots clicking against the wooden floor. Kenjirou sighs a little at his loud enthusiasm. This time at least he seems to have learned, as he takes his wet cloak and dripping hat off before they can make a mess everywhere. ‘Is there anywhere I could put these to dry?’ He asks and Kenjirou scowls a little. He’s been here for all of five minutes, out of the _goodness_ of Kenjirou’s heart and he’s already making himself comfortable in the place.

‘There’s a fire upstairs, come with me.’ He locks up the doors, and spends a few minutes tidying up for the night, placing various herbs back into their labelled jars- Kawanishi stands around a little awkwardly at this, as though he is unsure of quite what he should be doing- before heading through the doorway behind the counter and up the stairs to the flat above the shop where he stays.

It isn't large, just a couple of rooms, but he gets the fire lit and takes the wet clothes from Kawanishi. 

‘Thank you,’ he says with a wide grin, that Kenjirou almost mirrors- somewhat unconsciously- before realising what he is doing, and letting his own expression slip back to the neutrality he is so used to.

‘That’s okay,’ Kenjirou murmurs, still wondering what exactly possessed him to let this random wizard stay. He has made his bed however, and it is too late at night to do anything but lie in it. ‘Do you want food?’

‘If you have enough,’ Kawanishi seems a little hesitant and cautious, a change from his earlier excitement.

‘Yeah it’s fine.’ It’s not fine. Kenjirou is going to have to go and buy more vegetables tomorrow, and he cuts them somewhat more angrily than he should with this thought in mind as he prepares them for the soup he is making, but somehow knowing this doesn’t change the words that come out of his mouth. 

Perhaps the soft smile that crosses Kawanishi’s face when Kenjirou hands him the steaming hot bowl makes it all worth it a little. As he eats, it’s the first time all evening he has shut up for longer than a few moments, and the silence settles a little strangely in his small apartment. It’s the most companionship that Kenjirou has had in months, and he curses his own heart as he feels it flutter in his chest. There is no world in which this will end well for him. 

The next few days are a whirlwind for Taichi. He had thought there wouldn’t be too much need for a wizard in a small town like this, but he was wrong. He finds himself inundated with requests, for small spells and enchantments as well as people wanting him on board for longer term projects. He deals with those that he can easily, politely declining the rest, and by the time he makes it back to the café each night he is just about dead on his feet. 

He doesn’t get to talk to Shirabu that much, for the other man is quiet, and doesn’t seem to ever be the one to initiate conversation. As chatty as Taichi is, he’s thankful for this, much as he would appreciate a good conversation, most nights he is tired, and just wants to slump down on the sofa and shut his eyes as soon as possible. 

So when one morning, he wakes up to the smell of coffee drifting in from the small kitchen in the apartment, Taichi is surprised. Stumbling through, he spots Shirabu, mug cradled in his hands, flicking through a book laid out on the table in front of him. Shirabu looks up at him as he rubs his eyes a little. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows, and as Taichi takes a look at the old clock on the wall he is surprised to see just how late in the morning it is. 

‘Shouldn’t you be at the café?’ He blurts out, still a little disoriented from his deep sleep. 

‘I’ve got Goshiki on things today.’ Shirabu says, with a tone that indicates that he is very much wary about that decision. Taichi hasn’t heard of Goshiki before now. ‘He’s a witch too,’ Shirabu says when he spots Taichi’s confused expression. ‘My apprentice. Annoyingly earnest, but still not the best at everything technical. Hopefully he’s not accidentally cursed anyone already today.’ 

Taichi lets out a small laugh, he can’t ever tell if Shirabu is joking or not. His dry sense of humour is almost indistinguishable from his more serious tone his voice usually takes on, and there’s been more than one occasion on which Taichi has ended up on the wrong side of understanding. 

‘Anyway, I didn’t want to wake you up, you seemed tired. Seriously, do you ever take the idea of rest properly?’ 

Taichi huffs a little at that, how is it fair that Shirabu has known him for less than a week, but he already seems to understand everything. Perhaps it’s a witch thing. Perhaps he can read Taichi’s mind. 

‘There are a lot more people in this town who need my skills than I realised,’ he defends himself, as though he hasn’t been out working till after dark on most days. ‘I can’t just ignore them.’

Shirabu laughs, a gentle sound that Taichi has not heard until this moment. From what he has seen of Shirabu so far, he tends to be snarky or sarcastic, but never so genuinely amused as this. The thought strikes him that he wants to keep hearing this sound, and that idea startles him a little in the way it makes its home in his head. 

‘Kawanishi,’ the smile still on his face lights up the room, and Taichi wants to bathe in its light. ‘I’m sure that some old woman wanting you to enchant her pots and pans to clean themselves isn’t going to die if you don’t help her. You don’t need to do _everything_ people ask for. If you need to rest for a bit, their problems are still going to be there for you to fix tomorrow.’

Taichi picks up the coffee mug that Shirabu shoves across the table towards him and takes a sip. Like the tea from the day they met, it fills him with more warmth than one can reasonably expect from a hot drink. There’s an aftertaste to it that he finds himself unable to place, and something settles itself across his shoulders: familiar, reassuring.

‘I guess.’ He murmurs, cradling his hands around the warmth and watching the sunlight drape itself over Shirabu, glinting off his golden hair. It is not until the cup is empty, the two sitting in amiable silence, that he notices it is no longer raining. 

Kawanishi leaves after a few more days and Kenjirou doesn’t realise how much he’s become used to having someone else around until that moment. The two of them didn’t talk much, but he appreciated the company, and everywhere just seems a little empty now that it’s back to being him alone.

He never ended up asking Kawanishi for money for the room, it felt wrong. Though he didn’t know him well, it felt more like a favour for a friend than anything else. So in the end, they parted ways with Kawanishi enchanting a few of the things in his café for him, and an agreement that if he was ever in town again, he was free to stay. 

Kenjirou thinks that this is the end of it all. The wizard has left, to go on to new towns with more people that need him to do magic for them, and it would likely be a long time before he returned, if he ever did. There was no use thinking about him. After all they had only spent a week together. 

That week had been filled with gentle conversation in the morning light making way to comfortable silences in front of the flickering fireplace each evening. That week had been the most companionship that Kenjirou had experienced in years. Something he hadn’t realised that he had been missing until he was given it. But now, with it gone from his life once more, he finds himself lonelier than he’s ever felt.

He goes on with his life as normal, baking each morning, doing his enchantments in the afternoon, and taking care of the café. Now that the weather in the town has cleared up a little, it’s bustling with business again. School children come in the afternoon, running through the door with reckless abandon that worries him for the state of his café. Sometimes he gets visitors from out of town, they’re always the most interesting to talk to, with tales of other places they have visited. But none of them are Kawanishi. 

It’s not like Kenjirou is really able to leave, but he thrives on the stories they tell him of their travels and how they make their way to his small town in the middle of nowhere. Of all the visitors he gets, one of them is a wizard. Not the one he is waiting for. 

He tries to forget about Kawanishi, he really does. He knows that hoping for his return is futile. Kenjirou has no way of knowing when, or if, he’ll be back. He's best off to believe it will never happen. He has been let down in the past, one too many times, and yet he still finds himself clinging to this ridiculous thread of hope. This one stranger, turned something almost like a friend over a matter of days, that he just can’t seem to shake from his thoughts no matter how hard he tries. 

The rains of autumn progress steadily into winter snowstorms plaguing most of the countryside, and Taichi continues to travel. Once upon a time he had somewhere to call home, a town where he knew everyone, someplace he could come back to. But the life of a wizard is one of constant motion. He had hated leaving, but somehow he knows it would have been harder to stay. 

He rarely returns to places, visiting most towns only once or twice over a span of years, there are a lot of places that need his magic after all and he likes to explore the world. However it’s only a matter of months before he finds himself wandering back into that small town where he had stumbled upon a café and its witch one rainy afternoon. 

It’s morning when he arrives on this occasion. His feet are wet- once again he has worn shoes that are prettier than they are practical- though this time from the thick snow that blankets the cobbled streets. There’s a chill in the air as the snow falls gently around him, and Taichi bundles his hands up inside of his cloak to try and keep them from getting too cold. 

As he opens the café door, the bell chimes overhead, achingly familiar. The warm air rushes to greet him where his fingers are starting to turn pale from the frost and he rubs his hands together in an attempt to get their circulation going a little more. 

The witch standing behind the counter today is not Shirabu. He stands a little taller- though his face suggests he is a few years younger- and his hair, cut in a similarly blunt style, is darker. Goshiki Tsutomu, Shirabu’s apprentice, Taichi had seen him a few times before around the café, but they had never been formally introduced. 

Still, when he looks up from under the wide brim of his hat- which he has had the sense to enchant with protections against the weather since his last visit here- a flash of recognition seems to cross Goshiki’s face. 

‘You’re his wizard, right? Kawanishi?’

Something twists a little in his stomach at the idea of being _Shirabu’s_ wizard, but he gives a small nod. 

‘Oh he’s going to be thrilled!’ Goshiki exclaims, a wide grin taking over his face as he bounces a little on the balls of his feet. He dashes up the stairs behind the counter to the flat above the building where Shirabu stays, and Taichi decides that perhaps one or two vanity spells wouldn’t go amiss. 

He’s not used much magic yet today, nor does he have any plans to do so, and so he does a few enchantments that he would normally consider a waste of energy. There’s no reason _not_ to, he reasons with himself, seeing as he had nothing better to do with his magic. He resolutely avoids thinking about why he’s doing this. It has absolutely nothing at all to do with the way he feels the blood rush to his cheeks as he sees Shirabu emerge from the doorway. Nothing.

He’s stuck to the spot for a moment there as he watches the man standing before him. Shirabu looks healthy. He looks good. Not as tired as the last time Taichi saw him, and his hair has grown out a little, hanging long and loose over his eyes as he reaches up to brush it out of the way. 

‘You again.’ He says with a small smirk, and though Taichi can spot the smile underneath that’s practically bursting through to his expression, a slight wave of worry washes over him for a second. Perhaps he’s misjudged everything. He’s got this all wrong, he’s known the whole time that Shirabu has never really liked wizards, so why on earth had he thought he was an exception. 

‘Me again.’ He tries to keep his voice from wavering, but when Shirabu’s badly hidden smile emerges, along with a light flush on his cheeks, it's all he can do to keep himself from going weak at the knees. He wasn’t mistaken at all. If anything, perhaps Shirabu likes him slightly more than anticipated. He can work with that. 

‘Well, I’m not letting you stay for free this time,’ he says in a tone that makes Taichi worry that perhaps he has crossed some kind of line by coming back here. He’s just assumed this whole time that Shirabu had enjoyed the last time as much as he had, but perhaps he had been happy to see Taichi go at long last. 

‘That’s okay,’ he blusters, ‘I can stay in the inn if that would be better for you, or the day is still early, I could always find somewhere the next town over.’

He watches Shirabu glance out at the window, where it’s so cold that his breath had frozen in the air, and breathing had caused a faint ache in his throat. ‘No, no, I couldn’t do that. But,’ he trails off, resolutely not looking at Taichi as he speaks, ‘perhaps I could get you to do some more spells on my equipment. The cauldrons keep rusting and nothing I try seems to be helping. Everything you did last time held really well though.’ He mutters this all, under his breath, as though he is ashamed to be asking for help. From what Taichi got to know of him, he has no doubt that he is. Witches are prideful, Shirabu even more so than the others that Taichi has encountered, and he is sure it took a lot out of him to admit to wanting help. 

‘Of course,’ he says with a smile. ‘After I’m done with them, they’ll never rust again, I assure you.’ 

Their eyes meet, for perhaps a touch longer than they should. Shirabu’s are a rich golden brown, framed by long eyelashes that sweep onto his cheeks, and perhaps Taichi is a little entranced by them. 

He is pulled out of this reverie by a small squeaking sound, and whips his head around to see Goshiki, the young apprentice, looking back and forth between himself and Shirabu with some kind of awe expression on his face. 

‘Get back to work Tsutomu,’ Shirabu snaps at him, and he dashes back behind the counter, like a small child caught with a hand in the candy jar, ‘I told you I want that tea infused with sleeping draught by midday, and you haven’t even started yet.’ There is no reply from the boy, aside from the sound of work making itself heard, things being sliced and poured, the odd hiss of something being heated. 

Shirabu turns back to Taichi who had been watching the whole exchange with a small smile on his face. He could tell Shirabu is trying to be strict, to be a good mentor to this young witch. But there’s a certain amount of fondness that manages to shine through, no matter how hard he tries to conceal it under his harsh words and sharp instructions. 

With a dramatic sigh, Shirabu murmurs ‘That boy, honestly,’ under his breath, glancing behind the counter to make sure he’s still hard at work. ‘He won’t stop poking his nose into every single thing I do. Honestly, I think he’s managed to learn more about my personal life during the course of his apprenticeship than actual magic.’ 

Taichi lets out a laugh, thoughts drifting back to when he was younger. Unlike the close-knit apprenticing system that most witches stuck to, each branch of their magic so unique to the line that practiced it- he had learned how to use his own magic while at a school. He had been young and mischievous too, and arguably it hasn’t faded with age. Taichi doesn’t think there has been a single moment of Shirabu’s life he could imagine the same of, he seems like one of those people who had been deadly serious since the moment he opened his eyes. There’s some fondness hidden under there though, in the small smiles he gives that betray the joy he tries so hard to hide. The more Taichi catches glimpses of it, the more he is determined to see. 

Kenjirou would like to say that he’s surprised by how easily they fall back into domesticity, but really, he’s never expected it to be any other way. Not that he would ever admit it, but he’s imagined countless iterations of this moment over the past couple of months, and now that Kawanishi is here once more it’s just like everything from his imagination has come into reality. Well, not quite everything. Not yet anyway. 

He knows Tsutomu can tell. As irritating as he is, he has always been an observant one. Once you look past the chaotic aura that he exudes, there’s a remarkable level of awareness there that had been one of the reasons why Kenjirou had agreed to take him on as an apprentice. 

He keeps making snide remarks to Kenjirou as he works away behind the counter, sending him surreptitious glances whenever his cheeks heat up around Kawanishi. It’s a problem. It really is. He hasn’t been quite so infatuated with someone in years, and despite the cold exterior he keeps, it’s never really taken much for that to crack. 

Sometimes he thinks of _him,_ the wizard from before. The one who had waltzed in, all flirt and charm, before leaving him like he was nothing. This time it will be different, he tells himself. He’s worried. Of course he is, he hasn’t let anyone in like this in a long time, and Kawanishi has broken down his walls alarmingly quickly. But it feels different, it really does. 

Kawanishi is gentler with his charms, and Kenjirou gets the sense that he would stop if he thought that Kawanishi was uncomfortable around him for even a moment. It’s not all flashy displays. There are softer moments too that make Kenjirou feel like perhaps he can trust him. He spends many a morning in the kitchen, helping Kenjirou with his spells, happy to be delegated to cutting up roots, or stirring pots. He’s comfortable with not being the centre of attention, with helping quietly in the background while making constant conversation, chatting away about nothing in particular. It’s the warm companionship from a few months ago, he hasn’t realised how much he was missing it until he has it back. 

They chat to each other, gentle murmurs back and forth over the soft crackle of flames on the stove. Goshiki is out running errands, which Kenjirou will admit is one of the most useful things about having an apprentice. He’s currently working on infusing herbs for energy into his collection of teas, a process he’s done so many times that it practically comes second nature to him. They talk about everything and nothing at all. Kawanishi tells him of the travels he’s been on since the last time Shirabu saw him and in return Kawanishi tells him about some of the drama around town, for as much as he likes to pretend that he’s above all of that, people tend to tell him things, and he can’t help but to listen. 

‘I have to say, I don’t think anything I’ve done over the autumn will quite match up to that!’ Kenjirou admits, as the other finishes up a story about how he had helped a small fishing village stop the water sprite in their lake from killing all the other life in it. He had played down the story as he told it, making it seem like a group effort, but from the way he speaks of it, Kenjirou can tell he must have been the driving force behind it all. It comforts him a little though that he doesn’t try and twist it into some overly impressive feat. He’s known wizards like that, and the more he learns about Kawanishi, the more he realises that he really isn’t like that at all. 

‘Please,’ Kawanishi says with a laugh, ‘we’ve not known each other for that long, but you can’t keep referring to me like that. It makes me feel like I’m still at school or something. You can call me Taichi if you want.’ 

It’s a nice name, Kenjirou lets himself play around with it in his head, embarrassed at the flush that he feels shoot through him at the idea. It’s intimate in a way that he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Of course children call each other by their given names all the time, but it’s been a while since then, and in this small village people seem to want to be respectful to the witch. He appreciates that, but it’s been quite some time since he’s made any friends close enough to be on a given name basis with. Tsutomu is the exception to that rule of course, but he’s an annoying child. He doesn’t count. 

‘Kenjirou,’ he replies, taking a look back at the pot on the stove and realising he’s been so caught up in his own head that it’s almost boiled over. ‘If you want to that is.’ 

He’s always been cautious, never wanting to take anything further than it was meant to, always scared to take that next step out. 

‘Of course I do Kenjirou,’ Kawanishi, no, Taichi, says with a grin on his lips, and it makes Kenjirou’s heart sing. The old ladies who came around to his café often despaired at his lack of companionship, and he had never quite understood why they thought he was missing out on so much. He thinks now though, that perhaps he gets it.

After this second visit, Taichi comes back as often as he can, stopping by the village even for only a few nights at a time if it’s on the way to some other destination. Sometimes he comes by even if it's not on the way, making elaborate detours in order to fit it onto his travel route. After the first few visits, he’s done all the magic he can think of to the village, enchanting toys for children, and even some of the street lanterns to glow a soft gold without any kind of fuel. There’s no more magic that really needs to happen here, at least not _his_ magic, there is always a place for the comforting spells of Kenjirou and his tea shop, but the point is, they can no longer pretend why he is there. 

He knows why he is there, and Kenjirou knows why he is there, but the two of them never talk about it. There are no questions asked when he helps out in the café all day, no longer running out to do jobs for people like he used to. There are no questions asked when Kenjirou tugs him into his own bedroom one night, saying that the sofa is too uncomfortable for Taichi to sleep on, even though he's been using it for months and they both know that isn’t the case. There are no questions asked when their touches no longer linger with a slightly awkward feeling, instead they are prolonged in a way that both of them get comfort from. No uncomfortable flushing and glances, just a hand on a shoulder, on a waist, a warm weight to remind the other of their presence. 

As the year draws slowly round to summer, they start to step outside of the café doors more often. Goshiki is now trusted enough to watch over the place all day, though Kenjirou constantly frets, and on more than one occasion makes Taichi send Goshiki messages in little paper planes, floating them back from where the two of them sit by the river to make sure he hasn’t burned the place down in the few hours they have been gone. 

The two of them have been gradually falling into each other, caught up in their now shared orbits for almost a year when the inevitable finally happens. It's the end of summer, the leaves are starting to turn golden on their trees, but the last few days of warmth are still seeping through, the chill that is soon to follow yet to properly settle in the air. They’re walking in some of the hills around the village, Kenjirou had said he wanted to show Taichi the sunset over the mountains, that it was beautiful at this time of year and that up the hill was the best place to see it. When they reach the top, it’s still late afternoon, but they settle themselves down on the ground. It’s not as if they’re in any kind of rush here. 

‘I swear you can see for miles from up here,’ Taichi exclaims, wonder in his voice, as he looks out to the mountains that he knows are a long walk away by foot, no matter how large and looming they appear from here. 

‘It’s nothing special,’ Kenjirou mutters, Taichi supposes he must have been coming up here for quite some time, he knows he would if he lived here. ‘I’m sure you’ve seen things that are far more impressive than this on all your travels.’

And objectively, Taichi has, there’s no denying that. He’s been to the far corners of the country, seen forests of cherry blossom trees, frozen waterfalls in the depth of winter, he has seen things that not many other people would ever get the chance to: small caves that he had to cast breathing enchantments on himself to access. But none of those places have ever felt quite the same as this does. 

There's a slight chill in the air up so high, and he can see snow on the peaks of mountains in the distance. But even though it’s starting to dip a little, the sun is still warm. He can see the village sprawling below, the river they’ve spent so many lazy afternoons beside twisting and turning through the centre, weaving round all the houses. 

Taichi doesn’t think he will ever call somewhere ‘home’ again in the same way he used to as a child. He is a restless soul; he doesn’t think he could ever quite anchor himself in one place like that. But this is at least somewhere he can return to, like a sailor making his way back to land, even though he knows it’s only a matter of time before he returns to his place on the seas. He doesn’t think he can call this village home, but he glances beside him to where the slowly setting sun is casting golden light onto Kenjirou’s long eyelashes as he squints a little at the light, and he wonders if perhaps he can call a person home instead. 

In true, messy, form, the kiss is far from perfect. Taichi leans in a little, waiting for Kenjirou to reciprocate, and when he meets him in the middle, Taichi is so surprised he lets out a small squeak. It’s not perfect, but nothing in life is. They pull apart, and let their lips connect once more, it doesn’t need to be great on the first try, they’ve got as many chances as they want to get this right. 

‘Thanks for taking me here,’ he murmurs between kisses, rubbing circles into Kenjirou’s hair with his fingertips. Kenjirou doesn’t respond, but merely flushes a little, and tries to neaten his mussed-up hair. It’s so _him_ that Taichi thinks he could cry. He lets out a laugh, and Kenjirou merely glares at him. 

‘Shut up.’ He says, tone full of fondness as the sun dips red below the horizon, its gorgeous colours spilling out into the sky. He leans back onto Taichi where they sit, a comfortable weight against his chest, grounding him and holding him there for just a moment. 

In time, Taichi will be on his way again, but neither of them are worried about that. They both know it will only be a matter of months until he makes his way back to the small town and the even smaller café he stumbled on by chance all those months ago. 


End file.
